


meet me after the storm

by maevestrom



Series: All That Is And Ever Was Universe [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Asexual Character, Awakening + Forrest, Crossdressing, Day At The Beach, F/F, Internal Conflict, Lesbian Character, Old Friends, Politics, Privilege, Rekindling Feelings, Relationship Between Friends, Roughhousing, Trauma, Understanding Others, Understanding Yourself, failure - Freeform, gift shops, past vs present, seafood, ukulele playing, uncertain relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-11-28 01:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20958431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevestrom/pseuds/maevestrom
Summary: Six months after her return to Ylisse, Lissa finally meets up with her old childhood friend Sully after more than half-a-decade and realizes that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Feeling ignorant and immature, Lissa knows that she needs things to change, but slowly she realizes that maybe the things that need to change aren't the ones she thought.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really should just create a cinematic universe based around All That Is And Ever Was. Clearly the best fic I've ever wrote and every new story just gets more and more embarrassingly self-indulgent. I tried to write this as an original work a month or two back but nah. Just nah. Not happening, I ain't that slick. 
> 
> At least it actually is fifteen thousand words this time.

You close your eyes and fold your hands. You haven’t prayed even once without Emmeryn chiding you during services, and you aren’t about to start without her. There’s a gurgling in your stomach, not painful but definitely nauseating. If you were to stand up from the wooden bench on the promenade you’re sitting at, you’d probably get dizzy. Nothing’s medically wrong with you, and it isn’t full-out anxiety like you live in fear of. Everything just feels like… 

...a bad idea? Not really a bad idea. Just like… you don’t think you’ll get what you want. You just can’t imagine that it will happen. The more that the years have gone by, the more they have revealed a mystery that you can’t imagine one nice day solving. 

You landed back in the big city six months ago, and in the wave of Everything Else You Had To Do, giddy moments where you realized you were in the same town as Sully again kept sneaking up on you. Then you were swamped for six months as you adjusted to life back in Ylisse's capital. Well, that’s what you’ll say. You wouldn’t be lying, but you wouldn’t be telling the whole truth. The whole truth might be in how you keep thinking  _ don't mess this up, don't mess it up, did I already mess it up? _

You keep your eyes closed, though your mind’s eye can still see the promenade, see how the ocean arches into the cove of the shore, the shore that turns towards the west on one side and the north on the other, see how the sand is consumed by westward rocks too steep for you to have a prayer of climbing. The beach is too chilly to be a beach, but so many of them are around here, and you just have to get used to that. 

Where you’re at, the promenade is decked by tourist traps and pseudo-quaint white wooden buildings that look like Pier One decorations and block off access to the ocean. It also blocks off the hustle and bustle of the city that doesn’t pretend to be a quirky shanty like this beach does opposite it. 

Your phone vibrates. You know who it is. He texts you at the same rate as he always has, but it feels like more now that you’re nervous. You can’t respond easily without feeling regretful and disappointed about so many things, but you still love him like you do everyone from Themis. You can’t bring yourself to shut off communication with him, even if it does hurt a little every time. Even though you don’t know. 

You just can’t right now. 

So you sit, hands clasped, eyes closed until you finally hear her voice. 

“Shit, you left town for six years and came back all religious?” 

You giggle, opening your eyes. You could sort of hear her footsteps as she marched on up in her favorite tennis shoes that you remember after all these years, but you probably would have reacted to every set of steps you heard that way. 

You turn to the direction where the voice came from and see Sully. She’s let her sloppy red hair grow down to her shoulders now, which you’ve seen from social media posts but still is just so different. She’s wearing a giant basil green cargo coat, a baggy pair of jeans, and a big smile that reaches her eyes. She waits for you to hug her, and you don’t waste a second. You’re a little formal and distant at first until she says “Naw” and you lean in with force, face burrowed into her neck, giggling into her tan skin a little. It lasts for a long time, and she says “It’s so frickin’ nice to see you, Liss!” She sounds like she means it, too.

You feel all the blood rush into your chest in a way you haven’t for six years. “Sully…” Your arms wrap around her now, and you realize you’ve finally grown near to her height- well, as near as you can with her being nearly six feet herself. It feels weird not to grab hold of her shoulder blades for a comforting hug. A little wrong, but that’s how time works, you’ve found.

Eventually, you both step apart. Sully looks at you with a crooked grin, roughly checking your shoulder. “Look at you! Last I saw you, you were friggin’...” She places a hand atop your hair. “About yea high.” She cackles at her own joke like someone who should really be smoking less. 

You glare at her with a playful edge, hand on hip. “Shut up! I’ve grown a little!”

“It’s all cool!” she says. “You can’t help being bite-size!”

You bare your teeth. “I’ll show you bite-size if you keep it up.”

She cackles again. Her jacket looks warm, but it’s like barely any substantial fabric. “I’m pretty sure if any paparazzo caught you it’d be a scandal indeed.” Instinctively, she looks behind her, the wind tearing up her hair so badly it was easy to see why she never bothered with it. 

“I doubt anyone’s  _ there,”  _ you tease. 

She snorts. “I know that.”

“Sure, sure.” You place your hand in your pocket. 

On cue, she turns back to you. “That’s the most fancy I’ve ever seen you, for the record.” 

You gesture to your button-up white shirt, black slacks and platform shoes underneath. (You wore the shoes to give you a little extra height. They didn’t.) She’s probably referring to your pixie cut and gold hoop earrings as well. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Well, last I saw you in-person you were still digging holes and climbing trees,” she points out lazily. “And you’re all adult now.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. 

She takes a step next to you, staring at her feet as she stands by your side. It’s easier for her to get her thoughts out this way. “So, going political, right?”

You nod sadly. “Yeah, I mean… Chrom’s doing it. Emmeryn… did it. I guess mom and dad did it but I barely remember that. I sort of  _ have  _ to, you know?”

Sully looks you over with uncertainty. It feels like she stops and starts about fifty sentences but a sound never leaves her mouth, though if she wanted to call you out like she used to, you'd definitely deserve it. She settles on “You’ll do good for yourself, you know?” She says it with a warm, amused grin, but it isn’t quite right. You strangely want to apologize but also don’t know why. 

“Thanks,” you whisper instead. 

Anyone could tell that the conversation took a somber turn, Sully’s just the one who acts on it. “Anyway, Liss!” she says, clapping suddenly. “I know you didn’t bring me down to the beach after six years for nothing. What’s going down here?”

You shrug. “I don’t really have anything planned,” you admit. “I just wanted to take some time to get out of the city.”

“It’s all good,” she responds, even though she’s never been a city girl. “I just hope you’re prepared for cheap shit on not-cheap prices.”

“Trust me, Sully, kitsch sounds amazing right now.”

Sully chuckles lowly. “Did you come to the right fucking place then.” She holds her arm out, hand on her hip. “Come on then,” she says invitingly. 

You link arms with her. Even with your growth, she’s still taller than you, but she feels safe. You had no idea how much you missed this until you had it again. 

\---

Probably what everyone has first noticed about you is that you have a very giving nature. Well, you’d probably dispute that. You have  _ a lot.  _ You have  _ much.  _ You have the ability to do right by people and you’ve always liked doing that. It’s a bit compulsive. You’ve never been able to take the wealth and resources that a prominent political family had for granted. If you could help someone, you did. 

It wouldn’t feel right to do otherwise. You never wanted to be a spoiled child.

It was always easy to help Sully. You never minded covering lunches and things and she stopped protesting when you asked/told her to. Your dynamic became of two friends, one of which just happened to be pretty loaded, and the other just happened to make the first one’s heart skip by complete fucking accident. 

Being back with her is like your old life never stopped. Never changed? Probably not. Life changes. Like it or not, you have too. Still, the way she sits legs-outstretched at the booth of the worn-down seaside restaurant can really fool you. You instinctively fold your hands in the same praying motion that calmed you down earlier, keeping your elbows off the table as per the errant etiquette lessons you’ve received over the last half-year, even though it is  _ far  _ more convenient to. 

Sully looks through the menu and announces the entrees that interest her like reading off of a phone book, interjecting with “Wow, they really want you to know they’re a seafood place. Like, they don’t fuck around.”

You giggle. Sully tends to fit in as many barbs into her sentences as possible, and she tends to voice every thought she has, so you hear a lot of them. Another way you’re fooled into thinking things haven’t changed. 

“You decided?” she asks, peering over her menu she for some reason doesn’t close. 

You shrug. “Not yet. Might go with the scallops.”

She flips to the scallop options on her menu with a protracted  _ uhhhhhh _ . “Which one?” 

“Probably the one with the, uh…” You check the menu. “Beans and spinach.”

She cracks a disbelieving laugh. Gesturing at you with a fork that keeps switching between her hands: “Okay, Liss, cut your hair and, like, dress lawful butch all you want, but I know for damn sure you didn’t suddenly start liking spinach.”

You crinkle your nose, and she laughs more. “Spinach is okay!” you defend. You’ve built up a tolerance for it over the last couple of months. No one questions you if you eat spinach. The most you get is Chrom giving you an odd look when you do like he knows but isn’t gonna say anything. 

Sully sets the menu down with a profuse  _ thwap  _ on the table. “Okay. Let me ask you this then. What do you  _ actually  _ want?”

You open your mouth, then close it before your mouth gets ahead of your thoughts.  _ It’s just Sully,  _ you say.  _ No one else is watching you.  _ Still, deciding takes you too long. You know what you  _ want.  _ You’ve put it out of your mind something fierce when you entered, but now it’s roaring to the front. It’s just deciding whether or not to order it. To become a kid again.

You toss the menu to the table, where it nearly hits both of your water cups. Sully looks alarmed for a split second, but it’s gone before you can call her on it. “Lobster mac ‘n’ cheese,” you say with finality. 

“Hell yeah, Liss. Shit’s gravy.” She beams. Every time Sully looks pretty, like  _ pretty  _ pretty and not just idiosyncratically so, you’re caught off guard a little because you know she can’t help it. That feeling in your chest returns, but it’s better than stomach gurgles. 

“Thanks,” you respond too quietly. 

“I didn’t do nothing, but I’ll take it.”

“Sure, sure.” Best not to argue with her, but she knows you think she’s wrong. She raises her eyebrow with a smirk, and you giggle to yourself. 

There’s something about Sully that always has felt different than your other friends. Maybe putting her on a pedestal is wrong. Olivia can’t help being shy and flustered, and Maribelle can’t help being bitter and clingy. Forrest probably can help these things, and he’s always been nice to you because he’s always nice to everyone. Sully is just… easier. She gives a lot and doesn’t seem to expect a response. For the first time, you can breathe.

When you place your orders with the waitress, she orders the “uhhhh, the fuckin’ fish and chips” and adds “they’re beer-battered, right?” You kick your seat giddily, giggling while the waitress nods and takes her order with an unamused look on her face. You order the lobster mac with some confidence that you have to squeak out, but thankfully she doesn’t question why a suited-up wannabe-professional woman is ordering something so graceless, or the fact that she keeps company with a foul-mouthed sloven. The first you’d probably agree with, head bowed, but if she talked any shit about Sully you’d have her head.

When the two of you are alone again, you lean back in your booth across from Sully, hands resting at your side. Sully smiles back at you. It’s familiar. Neither of you really speak until the food comes out. She doesn’t ask about you diving deeper into politics, or about your life when in Themis, or why you left for six years and only called her up recently. You don’t ask about her various jobs that ranged from assisting at teaching facilities to stocking grocery stores, her friends that you usually see with her on social media partying up a storm, or if she can tell that you missed her. 

She chews with her mouth open but thankfully waits to swallow before speaking. “So I’ve never actually had fish and chips,” she admits before licking the inside of her mouth. Picking up a fry and gesturing with it, she adds “Kinda bummed that it doesn’t come with actual chips.”

You snort, but you would have made the mistake as well. “You haven’t changed a bit.” 

Sully grins. “Yeah, I tend to not do that.”

That’s really the truth of the matter. It isn’t that things never changed between you two. It isn’t that you’ve never changed in ways you struggle to control but think is probably right. It’s that she hasn’t changed. She hasn’t really changed from when you were fifteen to now when you’re twenty-one. She might have refined herself as she approaches adulthood, but she hasn’t really changed, and it makes you strangely nostalgic.

Nothing makes you feel as nostalgic as the heat in your chest and a desire to be close to her, a desire that is a lot more alien to you now than it was then. It makes you feel like it was silly to ever be nervous, but you think ahead to what you set out to do and the gurgle in your stomach returns. 


	2. Chapter 2

On your walk along the promenade, you finally check your phone. You know who texted you earlier, though thankfully you felt no vibration from your phone as you ate. It’s Forrest. 

_ I hope the day finds you well, darling.  _ He texts like he’s writing a love letter, but he texts everyone that way, even if you feel an extra special gurgle due to it.  _ Has life in Ylisstol been kind to you lately? _

It’s easy to lie to him this time since you can end it off with the truth.  _ Definitely. I’m with an old friend right now.  _

You put the phone away and return to her side. “Thanks for putting up with that.”

Sully shrugs. “Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do, eh?” She pulls her jacket over her shoulders. “I know you’re busy as hell lately.” The words have less air than they should, but it’s not noticeable enough to comment on.

“Thanks,” you respond, putting the phone back in your pocket. It vibrates, and you don’t care. Hopefully, Forrest knows to give you some space. He already knows that you like that, and you can tell that he tries, but he’s an intensely personal friend. You already know this from you talking about him with Olivia, who glows with praise for a man once her boyfriend and still her best friend. Then you look at Sully and those thoughts end like they never were at all. 

You two reach a nautical-themed gift shop. “This place looks like shit,” Sully says cheerfully, tongue sticking out. Then, knowingly, she opens the door for you. 

You snort-laugh. “Thanks a million, Sully.”

She lets you walk in then follows, hand in her pocket. 

Like so many things today, it’s a blast from the past. Sully holds up tacky necklaces and tries them on with interest she pretends not to have. Sully isn’t one to care how feminine she looks- if she did, she wouldn’t be hunting for jewelry here- but she’s always been one to cultivate her affectionately titled  _ trash panda butch  _ look (you remember when she hadn’t settled on one back when you were teens), and nothing does it for her like making the pinnacle of her luxury poorly crafted driftwood necklaces with too many fake shells lining it. 

(Maribelle would scoff, but not only does Maribelle love luxury, but she also loves making it known how much she loves luxury no matter what she is told. Her style is a finely crafted weapon. Not much thought goes into Sully’, but it’s a hell of a blunt stick.)

You pick it up after her and find a reusable shopping bag to put it in with all the stealth that you can muster. Though Sully’s been cool with you paying for a lot of things- it was nice not getting any guff about covering a lunch bill- you know how much she hates the idea that she hinted at you to buy things for her. The two of you window-shop, Sully actually picking up a few gimmicky toys that’ll work her hands for her.  _ Stimming,  _ she calls it; she’s always been a fidgety person in passing. She stacks them in her hands like a rickety tower, leaning them against her chest.

You can’t see anything here you actually like aside from big bags of saltwater taffy. You place another in there, though you doubt it is making it home. Maybe you two can share it on the beach later.

Which… you hadn’t planned to go to the beach later, but, that’s a brain blast for you.

You buy a large tie-dye beach blanket and stuff it in the bag. It neatly covers the taffy and necklace. There’s no way Sully wouldn’t suspect something if you tried to hide your intentions considering the blanket is sticking out of the bag at this point and you had to beat it into the bag to start with. “Wanna hang out at the beach later?” 

Sully lights up. “That sounds like a fuckin’ banger.” You beam, and she thinks for a second, finger to her chin. “You know what, I betcha ten dollars my ukulele is still in my car.”

You snort-laugh. “You practically live out of your car. Like, you didn’t actually get kicked out while I was gone, did you?”

Sully humphs. “No, my roommate’s still a perfectionist asshole, but we’ve managed to at least tolerate each other lately.”

You make a mental note to ask her about what she’s been up to in the past six years. Social media doesn’t cover everything and you’ve been bad about texting her. “That’s good, at least.” 

“Small mercies.” 

You look forward to her playing for you. 

You pay for your things first while Sully is oddly fixated on a spinning rack of postcards of the beach and the city in general. She gets about five of them and holds them between her fingers in the hand without the toys, two neighboring her thumb. She clenches her fist, looking like some Slasher of Well-Wishes. You giggle as you check out, and she raises her eyebrow. “Are you impressed?” 

“Very,” you respond with passive fondness. “You frickin’ dork.”

Your items are checked out. You pay for them and let Sully go. She hands the toys and the postcards to the cashier and pays for herself. You could tell this was one of those things she wasn’t about to let you cover, so you let it go. 

As you leave, you ask “what are those cards for?”

She shrugs, but if you didn’t know any better you’d swear she was blushing. “I got friends who travel. Friends abroad, too. I wanna give them a little something-something to remember me by.” 

You elbow her. “Someone in particular?”

“Eh,” is all she says, because if she lies and responds  _ no  _ you’d call her out. 

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

She snorts. “Sure, sure.”

\---

You’re very hit and miss on gauging what your friends want. What you can give is generosity, but it’s tunnel vision to the extreme. You know a lot about what people should want and need, but less about what your friends want and need. You just did your best around them- for better or worse, even though sometimes you did not know what to do at all.

Sometimes, you were happy with what you did- you provided Olivia with her first friend from Ylisse when she attended college in Themis. Then again, you were also bad at reading her shy nature and kept dragging her along to different (under-21) celebrations that you’d later wonder if she would have been happier not attending. 

Oh, but there was Maribelle, one of your closest friends. Her blunt and passionate nature drew you in from your earlier years. In exchange, you always offered shelter and companionship from a young age through her lonely gender transition when she was barely a teenager. Though when she saw such kindness as romantic love, you handled that misconception badly, and Maribelle’s skin as not as thick as she wishes it were even now that you’re friends again. 

It’s easier being friendly with Forrest, though that might be because you are from the same station and class, or maybe because he always seems pleased by things. The two of you pay for your own things save for occasions where Forrest finds it fit to spoil you. He does a relatively good job of reading who you present and is one of the few who can read what you don’t say (to some extent). You know that he probably knows that you could be happier. He definitely knows that you are confused. 

You can feel his hand on your shoulder, his ringlets falling across your chest, the wind blowing the fabric of his dress against your legs, his gentle kiss on your cheek that wishes it was more than it was. 

_ It’s okay if you need time to find yourself. _

You wonder how he expects that time to end.

It would be so perfect for it to end with him. 

You feel a tap on your shoulder and jump back to the present. Sully’s leaning on one of the displays near an aquarium tank, waiting for you to fade in again. “Uh, pretty sure you’re not allowed to do that,” you point out lamely. 

Sully shrugs. “Who’s gonna stop me? The police? They have better things to do.”

“If only they actually did those things.”

Sully leans up, planting her feet on the ground. In a husky tone, she says “better not let Chrom catch you saying that. He still thinks that justice is blind and all that bullshit.”

You remember the fundraiser. How tired he was. How angry he was. How security all gathered around Olivia threateningly and how it wasn’t right. How she stood there and looked them in the eye calmer than she ever has been. Olivia was someone’s symbol, and she shouldn’t have had to be.

“He’s getting better about that.”

The platform raises ahead of you and you two walk up the stairs to it.

Sully often said something as a teen that you’d never admit lines up with you- people are difficult to read. You assume that’s why she’s so upfront. You like that. Not enough people are upfront, though you wish you were, and try to be yourself for her. You fear not being good at reading people when you feel like you should be. 

Sully is fearless and unapologetic. Not enough people see big tanks with octopi sucking at the glass and stare at it with no fear, a big grin on her face like she had when you were teenagers. You're both enthralled and disquieted by how close the octopus is, even if kid Lissa would never be so scared. The only person fearless enough not to expect the glass to eventually break notices and puts a hand on your shoulder. You lean in and steal a sideways hug for no reason, feeling the edges of hair on the tip of your ears. 

She’s gotten better at reading people over the years.

Surely it can’t just be a  _ you  _ thing. 

The aquarium isn’t really anything special here. It’s just a place for looking. You toy with the admission band that’s way too loose on you as you look at the different specimens. Sully loves to look at them, and you find yourself looking at Sully, taking snapshots of the moments. 

Sully hasn’t really changed much in mind and is still as tall as she was when you left, but she’s definitely got broader, more intimidating, except you know she’s a softie. Her skin is a little smoother now, and her hair longer and shaggier. She seems… closer to finished. You feel like her kid sister next to her, and you’re not sure you like that. She’s just three years older than you. 

Well, three years and a half-foot. 

She goes to the bathroom and you wait on a bench on the other side of some whale watching trip advertisement. You ignore a text from Forrest and jot the dates down on your phone, though the nearest trip is in a few weeks. You and Sully should go together if you can. If she wants. 

As you wait for her, you go over your schedule in your head. You know that Chrom has a rally he has to attend on Saturday. You like protests. They’re loud, rowdy, visceral, and brave. The hard part will be trying to be proper when you really just wanna march with whoever has the megaphone and cheer them on. Then on Sunday, you’ve got an etiquette class that looks to bore you to tears, but whatever, you’re used to it, and odds are that you probably need it. 

You also gotta text Olivia and Maribelle when you can- you know that Maribelle can be prone to separation anxiety, and Olivia says that it’s been bad lately. It’s not explicitly because you moved back to Ylisstol, but you know that’s part of it. The friends who live in town, you can text later- hypothetically, you can see them. Then again, that’s what you thought about Sully, and it took you six months. 

Sully… what are you gonna do about her? It might be easier if you knew how you felt about her. Maybe why you felt this way about her. You haven’t felt this way in a while, this sort of heat in your chest. You didn’t think you could. You certainly didn’t before you left Themis- no matter who wanted you to. You’re often used to being underwhelmed- if you accepted any of the advances that others offered you, you’d just be stringing them on. So what is it about Sully that, even six years later, makes you feel like you did when you were a kid? 

You’re drifting off a little on the bench, legs splayed open, putting a little too much weight on the cardboard display behind you when you hear those tennis shoes. You sit up just after she meets your eyes and points further into the museum with them.

“Did you see me just now?” you ask before you can help it. 

She shrugs, but the disquiet is clear. “Nah, not til I walked out.”

You smile nervously, unsure why. For a second, you wonder if planning to spend the day with Sully was a great idea what with… well, everything, but you manage to clear your face before she wonders the same about you. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Olivia and Maribelle got A Moment Apart by ODESZA and Lissa and Sully get Mind Over Matter by Young The Giant, ps my brother does a better version of that song than anyone else courtesy of The Bedroom Next To Me Productions.

True to her word, her ukulele makes it to the beach with your towel and taffy bag, the necklace making it to your pocket just like her squishy toys (which she forgets to take out of her back pocket and sits on at first. You can’t help but laugh at her a little). She also brings a pillow, because she’s not good with elevation. If she lays flat on her back she tends to get dizzy, she explains. When she lets things about her health slip, it sounds a little severe, but it’s still Sully. 

At the moment she’s sitting up, snacking on taffy at the same rate as you. You shouldn’t run out, but you may gain a pound or two. Nothing bad in your eyes, but probably not so much for the pixie princess of your family. 

Ah, well. The taste is good. 

The sun is starting to set. It’s setting a little earlier than you imagined it, but it’s nice except for the part where she’ll probably be keen to go home after this. Sully seems to think it’s pretty- she doesn’t talk much and looks straight ahead at the cove and the ocean underneath the comforting reds and oranges of the sun disappearing from view. She’s unusually contemplative, more than you’ve ever seen her. She probably has a lot to think about; you certainly do. 

“It’s nice,” you offer. 

“Hella nice.” 

You don’t mind quietly staring off into the sunset with her, and you both eventually stop snacking on the taffy. You’re kind of amazed at how much you like this. You’re kind of amazed at how tired it leaves you. Somewhere along the way, you hold hands, and when you notice it you don’t pull away, you just gasp a little. Sully looks at you, and you shrug gently. There’s something tender about you right now. You’re not used to letting yourself be free.

Once the sunset leaves you in the twilight, then that awkward place where the sky is dark gray-blue but no stars can be seen, Sully goes for her ukulele. You want to pout and insist that she hold your hand again, but you like the eager, somewhat embarrassed aw-hell smile on her face as she starts warmup strumming. 

“It’s been a while,” she admits. “So I am not sure if I’m still what you call  _ good. _ ”

You shrug it off. “You’re probably fine. I ain’t gonna judge you anyways.”

She grins toothily, but still looks embarrassed by herself, eyes on the strings. “Well, this is a new song- like, even for me. I’m not even sure it was out, like,  _ that _ long ago, but I found it just a couple of weeks ago.” You swallow at the mention of time, but she doesn’t notice. “So if I suck, that’s why.”

Now you  _ do  _ pout. “You’re gonna be frickin’  _ fine _ , Sully, I swear.” 

Sully laughs. “If you say so.” 

She starts. She is very fine. It doesn’t help that the song she plays is pretty easy to perform. You don’t really know how ukuleles or really any instruments make music- witchcraft, maybe- but you think you could maybe learn this one. Just not as well as she does. 

_ Mind over matter, does it matter to any of us?  _ _   
_ _ Don’t change the subject. _ _   
_ __ I’m heavy on your love.

You sway slowly as the music goes back and forth in its chords. 

Sully’s singing voice is different from the spirited hoarseness that her voice normally has- and you notice that she hasn’t smoked once all day. Her singing voice is like a lounge singer, a little rough and tumble but smooth and low in its sharpness. She lets syllables hang for a second if she has a pause to let them loose because singing isn’t a chore or a performance. It’s just a way to pass the time. 

_ And if the world don’t break, I’ll be shaking it.  _ _   
_ _ Cause I’m a young girl after all. _

Live time editing, since you’re pretty sure the song goes  _ young man after all.  _ That’s impressive. Also the first time that you’ve thought of the perpetually more-adult-than-you Sully as a young girl, but the thought barely lasts.

_ And when the seasons change, _ _   
_ _ Will you stand by me? _

You’re not sure why these lyrics resonate with you quite so hard, or why those lyrics, in particular, make you wanna cry. 

_ Mind over matter, I’m in tatters just thinking about her.  _ _   
_ _ Taste my disaster, it’s heavy on my tongue.  _

The way she sings those lyrics is so powerful, so visceral, that even in her mellow voice you get chills. This song seems to have put its hooks into her deeper than she says. Maybe it’s about whoever she wants to send the postcards to. 

Imagining Sully singing like these are her lyrics makes the song a lot better. It really gets you lost in the cadence of her voice, when it goes to script and when she goes tensely staccato, when her voice is calm and the moments where she sings a little too loudly or roughly. You memorize the words where she does, though the lyrics tend to repeat themselves. When she hums in between verses, you can hear her trying to calm herself down. You aren’t sure that- even with Olivia’s modesty, Maribelle’s honesty, and Forrest’s observational and open nature- that you’ve had a moment where you really feel like you understand someone.

You feel like a kid again. 

You feel like a kid who just learned things about herself that scare her. Even though the things do not scare you anymore and you’re more familiar with all the things you discovered then, you still feel like a kid who just learned things about herself that scares her. 

She finishes the song with one last utterance of

_ And when the seasons change _ _   
_ _ Will you stand by me? _ _   
_ __ Cause I’m a young girl built to fall. 

You have to wipe away a tear. She sets the ukulele down and looks at you. “No way you’re crying.”

You point at her face. “You’re doing it too!”

Sully laughs so hard she ends up on the pillow. “Well, gods damn my eyes.”

You shrug. “It’s okay, we can both be weepy messes together.”

“The hell we can,” Sully responds. “That was the most I’ve cried in a year and no way in garbagey hell am I about to do it anymore.”

You feel your tears calming down. “Yeah, probably same here.” After a second: “No guarantees, though.”

Sully hums, snuggling into the pillow she brought. “Right. No guarantees.”

\---

You’re on your stomach, kicking your feet up, your phone separate from your person. Sully sits up because she has an “old man body”, she says sometimes. You don’t fully buy it because she’s so strong, but you figure you can trust her on it. It’s just so weird to comprehend; the Sully you know is a rowdy powerhouse, but maybe you just need time to really get the full picture. 

She’s got her knees to her chin, slowly talking about her life, and you’re grateful that she’s gone first because you have no clue how to describe yours. 

“I think Cordelia and I got it nailed down to a kinda workable routine,” Sully explains, one hand gesturing at nothing, other hand pressing down on a squishy dolphin toy over and over. “Course, since it was us two, the workable routine is always ‘stay the hell out of each other’s way at all times’.” 

“You really hate your roommate,” you muse with amusement. 

“Yeah, no shit,” Sully responds bitterly. Then, softening: “I mean, I really try to live and let live. I know we’re different. I just… gimme a gods-damned break sometimes is all, you know?”

You nod apologetically. An unhappy Sully is a sad sight. “I definitely hear ya there.” 

Sully made sure that her roommate was queer as well- you teased her about hooking up with Cordelia, but also believed her when she said that she just didn’t wanna be hassled about her own queerness. Course, Cordelia still pretty emphatically didn’t get Sully and wasn’t shy to express it. You reckon Sully would shrug it off if it was just about her in all her slovenly unkempt Sully-ness, but it went further than that. 

It was always about Sully distracting Cordelia with her tendency to stim, or some passive-aggressive bullshit about Sully inviting other women over like that made her easy. “Not my fault that my room is the only place we can have drinks in peace. Had to set up a table in there and everything.” Maybe Cordelia was the right roommate for someone. Maybe she wouldn’t get the ire of someone else like she does the self-admittedly reactive Suly. Still, the more Sully leans into being apologetic about it with  _ you  _ for some reason, the less she sounds like she  _ needs  _ to be.

“I really shouldn’t be bitching so much,” she admits. “I’d probably get into shit with any roommate if you wanna know the truth.”

You shake your head. “If you wanna be angry about it, you know…” You shrug. “You shouldn’t hide that. You’re valid, you know.”

Sully groans, but can’t hide a surprised smile. “Yeah, just… the more I talk about her the angrier I get, so!” With an aggressive clap: “Let’s change the subject.”

You smile until you realize that since Sully doesn’t really have a lot of shit going on, it’s probably gonna be your turn to talk. Your feet fall on the blanket and hit the sand. 

Sully notices with a wry smirk. “That rough?”

You shrug. “It’s a lot, is all.”

“You can skip out on the awkward bits.”

“No, I really can’t,” you admit. “It’s all kind of tied together into a big lump and it kinda just makes me a lump of grossness too.”

Sully hmms as she sits back against the pillow. Patting the spot next to her, she tells you “I mean, just sit back and relax and say what you wanna.”

You look at her with a smile. You shouldn’t, but Sully isn’t the type to take no for an answer when it comes to something so minor. You fluff the pillow next to her and rest your head against it, eye level with her waist as you lie down. “Thanks, Sully.” 

“Anytime.”

You fold your hands together like you’ve done before, though the fingers lace tighter this time. “I mean, it’s really hard to talk about the way things have gone without talking about Emmeryn.”

Sully winces. “Yeah, yeah, that makes sense.”

“I didn’t even find out cause I was in Themis and she was here. We travel sometimes but I didn’t that day because I was screwing about. I saw it on the news and…” You choke, and she seethes a drawn-out  _ shit _ in empathetic pain. “I don’t know,” you seethe like your tears are acid. “Fuck. This isn’t related to anything.”

“Probably not immediately,” she both responds and challenges at once. 

“Yeah,” you respond limply. “I don’t know. I think just that… the whole thing really stuck with me. Which, I mean, duh. Emmeryn was my sister. I just… if I was there, you know…” You’re really not getting anywhere. You don’t think you even said this to Maribelle when you reconciled after it happened. Sully turns to you, eyes creaking open a little more. You clear your throat before you get to crying. “I feel like… I think Emmeryn was just so much better than me, you know? And I’m just a kid. I’ve got a lot of growing up to do.”

It doesn’t work, and you sob a little. You’re not dumb enough to think that after a few years you should be  _ over  _ it, but you sure wish you were. You would be a lot easier to handle if it didn’t affect you. Sully lies next to you with a sudden  _ boosh  _ in the sand and reaches out an arm, beckoning you into her. You take it and hug her, and she awkwardly wraps her arms around you. 

She squeezes the toy harder even after you find that your tears have dried and left you shaking. She always steps up the intensity of sensory things when she’s feeling negative, and you doubt this little dolphin is nearly enough. “I don’t really know what to say,” she admits, but she  _ looks  _ like she knows and she just doesn’t want to say it. 

“It’s hard,” you say, but your tone gets more sympathetic. “I think I put pressure on myself to grow up. Be good at this whole political game my way. Cause that’s really all I can do. Like, they’re trying to iron out my kinks, you know, and so am I, but…” Your voice cracks. “I don’t even think I really know myself well enough as it is. So it’s all just, like… when you exercise but you still feel like shit, you know?”

Sully whistles as she takes it in. 

“Sorry, I’m just rambling at this point.”

“I ramble too when I’m letting something go, you know?”

You let go of Sully and let her adjust. She does, crunching her legs up so she fits on the blanket better. “I really should have bought a larger one,” you say apologetically as she once more rests her head next to yours. Her breath is hot on your own cheeks. “It was just a last-minute idea.”

“Nah, it’s all good,” she says. 

“You’ve said that a lot today.” You frown. “I just… I don’t know. Today was a good day, right?”

“Today was hella fun,” she responds slowly. “I just know that… something’s come over you. I mean, I know it’s been a while, and you’ve been off onto bigger and better things, but like, you haven’t really changed. You’re still the only person I can read really easily.” 

You close your eyes. That hurts. She didn’t intend it to, but it smacks of missing out. 

“Sam.”

Sully’s eyes widen in a sudden burst. Nearly everyone calls her by a form of her last name, Sullivan, to the point where Sully is like her chosen name. You never use her first name in any variation unless it’s something serious, and even then it’s just you and her mom, who calls her Samantha (to her ire). You think she’d kill anyone else if they used her real name, but instead, she just sucks in a breath and meets your eyes with barely hidden fear. 

“Sammy, I’m sorry.”

She closes her eyes. “I know. I’m... “ She squeezes the dolphin hard before transferring hands. “Sorry I’m on edge so much and all. Guess you could see it better than I thought.”

“You’re totally valid being that way, you know. 

“Like what way?”

You sigh. “Upset. Even if it’s at me.”

“It’s  _ not  _ you,” she insists with a weak lie. She's always been a bad liar, but especially here. She can’t keep it up and groans. “Ugh, feelings can suck my ass. This shouldn’t be something that I’d have to work through, you know? Friends come, friends go. I just...”

You wish that this could just be an open-and-shut it’s-okay-let’s-end-it, but what was it she said?  _ I ramble too when I’m letting something go.  _ This clearly has affected her a lot, and you can’t escape that it’s your fault. She doesn’t speak, and you don’t rush her. 

“I just… guess I gotta be all mushy,” she finally says with a grumble, but a look in her eyes that feels a little safer than she expected. She knows she can be mushy around you, which is interesting because she’s about to spill some negative feelings towards you. Still, you’d rather her share than her bite her tongue and let you overthink. 

“I just missed you, I guess,” she admits after too long. “Sort of off and on. That’s usually when I texted or emailed. Then you came back, and you were still… really distant, I guess. And I had that moment where I was, like…” She sighs, angry at herself more than anything. “You know, what if she didn’t really care? What if it’s just been too long? What if I’m not a part of her life she wants to keep? I wasn’t any damn sure if that time was over or not and I think I cared more than I wanted.” 

She squeezes the dolphin so hard that you’re worried it’ll pop. “And that felt just like  _ shit,  _ man _ .  _ It hurt a lot, and... I wish you’d have sent a line out earlier, cause I thought you moved past me.”

“Oh my god, Sully, I’m so sorry.” You want to take her hands, but you don’t feel like you should. 

“I mean, hell, you apologized,” she responds like she thinks that really should end everything. “I appreciate that and all. I just…” She closes her eyes. “No, never mind that, that thought’s fuckin’ stupid.”

“Say it, it’s okay.”

“It’s all good.”

“It’s  _ not,  _ because it’s like  _ actually  _ bothering you, you know? And  _ I  _ did that so basically we’re in this mess together so I really need to know what you’re thinking.”

Sully sighs. “I’m not sure what to think. What should bother me and what shouldn’t? It feels out of my control. I don’t like talking about things when I haven’t formed the thoughts yet. I just…”

Neither of you two says anything, but you meet her eyes. There’s no malice, no resentment, and there hasn’t really been any all day. Okay, you remember little spaces in her speech that were a little harsher or rougher than perhaps she intended, but it seems like for the most part, how she feels about your absence and your presence are two distinct things. Things she wishes never married. 

“Just please don’t fuckin’ bail on me again, okay?” She’s nearly pleading. “Like… I know I’m not the same Sully as before.”

“You seem just like her,” you argue. “Just older now.” That’s what you’ve been saying all day to yourself. It just feels like fact. Isn’t it? 

“I mean, I guess if you don’t look too carefully. I guess I just…” she sighs. “It’s more I live with myself every day so I can see how I’m not as strong or together or chill as I used to be, and I wasn’t even that chill. Or that together. I’m just, like, an actual mess now.”

“I’m kind of a mess too,” you argue. Sully giggles, and it hits you a little, the burning in your chest squashing the gurgling in your stomach. “I was worried I was too much of a dork.”

“Pssh, you’re fine,” she responds. 

“Then so are you, okay?” Looking at her in the eyes: “Admit it!”

“Hell no, I’m not a third-grader.”

“I swear to God, Sully, just admit it!”

“Okay, okay. I’m fine,” she says with a laugh that doesn’t quite believe it yet, but you know that takes time. 

You smile, satisfied. “Good.”

Sully’s face grows serious. “But the point still stands. Even if I’m not polished enough for Junior Senator Lissa Mercer or whatever the fuck, I’m still your friend. I’ll take that title with pride. And I’ll take it and admit…” she scratches her neck with an  _ ugh.  _ “Can’t believe I’m saying this to  _ anyone,  _ but I really don’t want to lose you. That’s all you gotta do to fix this for me, is just…”

She turns away, overwhelmed and embarrassed. You turn her back, your eyes fiery as they meet hers. She just laughs with a quiet swear. You always were the stubborn one. 

“Like, don’t bail, okay? Even when things get freaky.”

“I promise,” you utter, tears in your eyes. You mean it, too. There was something about Sully that seemed… perpetual. Sometimes you took it for granted, but even friends like Olivia, Maribelle, and Forrest, they feel a bit… temporary. You’re too used to saying goodbye to people, or to never saying goodbye at all. Sully is different. Then again, she always was.

She beams. It’s the softest you’ve ever seen her. “That’s all I need, Liss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me trying to figure out how the fuck i will ratio the chapters and scenes: uhhhhhhhhh help


	4. Chapter 4

You two lie with your backs on the pillow, staring at the water. At this point, it’s fully dark and they’ve turned a series of towering floodlights on over the beach. You look at the water in front of you, see it lapping on the shore slowly according to the shifting tides. 

“Wish I brought a beach towel,” you complain. “I wanna go into the water.”

Sully drums her knee. “Not sure you really need a towel exactly.”

You tug at your shirt. “Think right now I’d rather jump into a meat grinder than deal with the friggin’ dry cleaners.”

She snorts. “Well, praise fuckin’ be. I’ll trust you on that then.”

“Besides, the alternative is just air-drying without these clothes and, no offense, I am not gonna skinny-dip in front of another human being.”

“I can vibe with that,” she responds. “But seriously, if you can’t just buy a new set of those clothes, is all your money just window dressing or what?"

“I mean, you got me there,” you respond, mood lifted at her forcefulness. 

"You wanna do it, just fuckin' do it is what I say.”

Still, you’re thinking. You’re thinking hard. Maybe you don’t wanna do it because… well, think about it. You showing up in your clothes that are soaked to the bone because you just wanted to go swimming, with no excuse or reason for how you acted like a child? You’d probably get a talking-to. If not from Chrom, from one of the press secretaries or etiquette teachers who would probably tell you that you have no real reason that you should be in politics. Or maybe your family assistant Frederick, who wouldn’t say that, but his words would feel that way.

But when you think about it, there really  _ isn’t  _ any reason you should be in politics, so you’re starting from the baseline already.

Sully looks at you while she takes off her jacket. “I’m going.”

“You’re going?” 

Then her shoes. “Yep. And you aren't gonna stop me.” 

“Well!” With that, you work on unbuttoning your shirt. You’ve got a reasonable training bra on underneath because of course you still need one. Just another way you feel like a baby. Still, Sully has never been an ogler. Maybe she’s never seen you in a way  _ to  _ ogle, maybe she remembers that you were fifteen the last time she saw you and hasn’t unlearned that yet, but more than anything, it’s just not her.

Sully takes off her pants to leave a loose pair of boxers. Then, she taps you on the shoulder and starts to run. “Not that you could anyway, bite-size!” 

You gasp. Taking the shirt off, you say “that’s it, bitch, get back here!” You have to throw your shoes off before you start running, socks still on, and the sand is so uneven that you nearly trip and fall. But the both of you are running like rag dolls atop the sand, and she seems more shocked than you when the sand goes solid. This gives you your chance, and your grin turns into a growl as you leap at her. 

“Motherf-” 

She crumples like paper and you both fall into the tide, you on her back. You cackle like you haven’t since you were a kid. “I gotcha, didn’t I?”

The tide washes backward and forwards in slow time. “Yeah, yeah, just let me lean up before I pass out on your dumb ass.”

“Oh!” You all but leap off of her and into water an inch thick, soaking the ass of your slacks with an especially awkward fall on something lumpy, but you brush it off. You instantly realize that, yeah, those pants are probably dead and gone. The material is even thinner than Sully’s jacket; you’re embarrassed to find that it’s going transparent. 

“Payback!”

You don’t even know how she got so much water into her hands from that shallow a body of water, but she nearly creates a wave that splashes up at you, soaking your short hair and nearly blinding you. “How the fuck?!” you squeal in outrage. 

“Magic, bite-size. That or it doesn’t take much to soak you.” 

“I’ll kill you!” you roar, cracking up. 

She cackles like that’s exactly what she expected. 

The two of you get lost in a wave of tackles, splashes, and utterly childish water-fights that would rival any that the ocean could send back at you. You get water in your ears, in your bra, and enough to give your hair a dirty tint. She’s got a closed short-sleeve shirt with a collar, so she’s good there, but you can’t imagine an uncomfortable amount didn’t get in her boxers. The water is  _ cold.  _ If she had balls, they’d shrivel up into pine nuts. Or hell, maybe she does and they did, you never thought to try and clock her. Either way, she’s gotta be freezing. 

Quickly, you two tire out, an explosion of energy that evaporates quicker than a firework. You two rest in the shallows, the water soaking your legs, heads resting against each other as you lean forward. 

“Good idea,” you tell Sully.

She shrugs. “I’m full of them if you let your guard down enough.”

You giggle with a smile. “Yeah, I remember that. Especially the ones that got me in trouble.”

“Like you ever cared.” 

You think about all the roughhousing you got into despite her being nearly two of you at the time, All of the days spent in the dirt and traveling everywhere nearby into the thickest patches of forest that you could find, ones that Maribelle would communicate disgust at, a smidge of jealousy in her voice that she never could quite stifle. All of the days where you just got to hang out with Sully and relax in ways that none of your friends really let you do anymore. 

Sully seems like herself more than any other time. Now you can see how time has made her calmer, more accommodating, almost shy around you- or, well, as shy as Sully ever got. This, however, is just like old times. It gives you hope that even if things change, things will remain the same at heart.

“Not really, honestly.”

“Do you care now?” She’s quiet, and this is sincere. 

You think for the honest answer. She lets you, probably because she said earlier that it’s how she does things. “I want to care less,” you decide, and she nods with an understanding-if-not-disappointed hum. “I feel like, yeah, there’s a lot of pressure on me, but… this was the most fun I’ve had in ages. Today’s just been…” 

Then you say it. You thought you’d have to plan it, but it just bursts forth.

“I want to do this more often, Sully. Like old times. Just hang out with you.”

She’s stunned into silence, looking at you with mouth half-ajar. Then, like she never looked comically shocked, she says “I’d really love that, Liss.”

The two of you wrap your arms around each other. She winces and stretches her leg out obtrusively. “Did I hurt you?” you ask quickly, scampering away. 

“Probably not  _ you  _ exactly,” she admits, hand on her knees massaging the muscles nearby. “I always forget how shit these old joints are.” Absently: “I’ve been having problems with them for a year or two now.”

You gasp so hard your head jerks up. “Shit, I didn’t know that! I’d have been a lot easier if you told me!”

Sully smiles, but she’s tired. “Nah, don’t worry. It’s just hard to really take seriously, cause I can still walk and do a lot of normal stuff for a long time. I mean, you saw me on the promenade, right? You’d never have known!”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I mean, I’m always gonna worry a little. You gotta take it easy, I think.”

“I’ll be  _ fine.” _

“I mean, probably, but I still want to make sure you’re safe and you’re not pushing yourself, okay?”

She rests her free arm on her lap. “Look, I don’t mind pushing myself a little extra to get what I want. I’ll be  _ fine. _ ” With a little huff: “I didn’t expect you to be so pushy over it.”

You glare at her. “Look, if you get to be pushy for what you want, so do I, okay? And I want you to be safe.”

She looks at you. “You do?”

You nod, “Course.”

She sighs, but she’s smiling. “That’s mighty kind of you, Liss.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

The two of you spend a little time sitting in the ocean. Your hands find each other again. Each time you do sends a little more heat into your chest. 

“Got some pain pills in my purse if you need any,” you offer, pointing to the direction of where you would imagine the car to be. 

“Damn,” she responds. “I knew that y’all were some corrupt motherfuckers in charge.”

You lightly slap her. “As in acetaminophen, you dweeb.”

She chuckles. “Not as fun.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t need drugs to be fun,” you say with a teasing, inviting lilt. 

Without missing a beat: “Gross, are you a frickin’ PSA? What the hell bullshit were they feeding you in politics class?”

You cackle and don’t reply. You’re not sure how you could. 

“I’m friends with a fuckin’ lame-ass. Someone help me.” She doesn’t stop smiling.

The two of you crawl back to shore, looking like algae monsters with the clothes you wore dragging against the air, clinging to your bodies and drooping low like dead weight. Eventually, you reach your beach blanket. You throw your wet socks off, and your shirt fabric is just barely thicker than your pants- was it designed for a wet T-shirt contest?- so you leave it be, doing your best to air-dry. 

Sully tosses you her cargo jacket. “Here, wear that on the ride.”

“You sure?”

“It can take a lot of damage.”

You smile and accept it, still ginger when you put it on considering it nearly reaches down to your knees (it was big on her, too). That’s when you remember the driftwood necklace. That’s also when you remember that it was in your pants pocket. That’s also when you remember that you wore your pants into the ocean with the necklace in your pocket. 

“Shit!” 

Sully cranes her neck towards you as you reach into your pocket. “Oh hey, that’s the necklace I saw.” She narrows her eyes. “Sneaky bastard.”

“Well, it  _ was”,  _ you lament. “Brain surgeon that I am, I forgot to take it out of my pocket. I’m sorry.”

She takes the piece of driftwood from atop the crushed pile of fake shells. “I can make this work.” She sets it in her own pocket with a smile. “Thanks, Liss.”

You nod with a smile. “Of course. I just wanted to make sure you remembered tonight.”

She scoffs with a tiny charmed blush as she lifts up the taffy bag. “Like I wouldn’t anyways.”


	5. Chapter 5

You aren’t always sure what you regret. 

Everything seems to come with good and bad. There’s often stuff you’re happy about doing in the same vein of things you felt went wrong because of you. When you think of those moments, you think of Maribelle, and when you think of Maribelle, you think of Olivia. And when you think of them, you think of introducing them to each other over a year and a half ago, the girl from college and the girl from childhood. You think of how after a rocky start, they became fast friends as Olivia adjusted to limited mobility after a bad car accident. You think of Maribelle, never truly having power in her life, using what she had vested in her to help Olivia recover, letting her try to dance again for the sake of better days. 

You remember that you called it.

Then you think about all of the heartfelt texts Olivia sent you when she realized she loved Maribelle, and Maribelle constantly denying and deflecting her very obvious feelings out of stubborn pride whenever possible. You remember being amazed and endeared at how you and Forrest wound up as spectators to a queer celebration, if not quietly jealous. You remember being touched that all the parts of them you never properly appreciated, the other woman did. You remember being so happy that they were better than you were.

You remember Forrest feeling the same way as you. “My Olivia,” he whispered breathlessly. “My dear Olivia embracing herself.” While you didn’t say anything as dramatic a statement, you remember just wanting to make Maribelle happy. She’s never happy. 

You remember both of you asking them one-on-one to your brother’s latest fundraiser gala. 

You remember Maribelle asking her out anyways.

Maribelle would later tell you after she bloodied her own hands that it was a bad idea to invite her to the fundraiser- Maribelle’s own father was there, and Olivia was far more ramen-and-polyester than caviar-and-silk. There was a tinge in her voice that regretted to expose Olivia to things that Liss had to reassure Maribelle that she would be okay with. On the other end, Forrest told you how much Olivia freaked out over everything from Maribelle asking her to concern (well, more white-knuckle fear) that she would be too brash for an event like this, while Forrest- master of glamour- was making her look like a princess for once with a custom dress that you’d swear could sell for thousands. 

And despite itself, despite the women’s anxiety hindering them, the two actually got together under the knowing eye of yourself and Forrest, culminating in a surprise dance- a surprise since Olivia was still on a cane- and surprise kiss- a surprise because Maribelle initiated it. 

You did something right. 

But you were so wrong. 

You didn’t think of what Maribelle’s father had done to his daughter’s mind. You didn’t consider that Olivia, the blunt college girl from Ferox, couldn't get respect from high-class people like they feigned for you. You didn’t know that Maribelle’s pride was a flimsy shield, or that Olivia’s recklessness would put attention on herself. Nothing about them did- could- bother you, so of course, it couldn’t for everyone, right? 

You didn’t expect the trauma, the fights, or the standoff at the end where everyone in security rushed up on Olivia for “causing a disruption”. Olivia had been reckless as long as you knew her, but this was new. What did she do? She held up an elevator, so no one could see her dry Maribelle’s tears. So no one could hear them admit things to each other that you could only guess. You could only imagine it to be so sweet that the idea of her getting hurt for it just seems like a gross injustice, even though your brother made sure to keep things from escalating.

With every dance comes a standoff, with every new tie an old one lost, with every kiss a slap, and with every utterance of those three words comes a torrent of words that you wish you had held back. Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe the world doesn’t work off of give-and-take. Maybe it’s not that fair, but you can’t let that idea go yet.

You’re scared. Like you have the right.

You remember Forrest’s words.  _ This is something we didn’t know, Melissa.  _ He is the only one to use your first name at all. Not Lissa like Olivia and Maribelle. Not Liss like Sully does. Melissa. It makes you feel elegant for a moment. You pay attention to the way his hand feels in yours like everything can be fixed.  _ Now that we know, we can be better friends to the ones who did.  _

You look at him. You’re waiting in the car for Maribelle to rescue the HRT from her room as she leaves her house for the last time. Olivia is sniffling in the back, but you recall her holding Maribelle as she cried harder than ever as you waited on the valet. In the lifetime that you've known Maribelle, you’ve never seen her cry so hard that she finds a second wind, even when you rejected her advances. You replay it in your head against your will and in a voice so low that you’re sure Olivia can’t hear:  _ But what about what I already did? _

He doesn’t have an answer immediately ready. He seems to think about it until Maribelle walks out the front door with her medications surely in her purse, a stony look on her face. As she settles into the car next to Olivia, her belongings in the trunk, the conversation never resumes, but you still think about it all the time. The entire time you drove to Olivia’s apartment, you drifted away trying not to think of the way Maribelle cried but still hearing sniffling in the back seat even when you could barely hear anything at all.

\---

You feel a squeeze on your arm so hard it pinches you. You flinch and shriek a little, only then realizing that you dozed off a little on the ride. Not completely, you were still awake if not active, the streetlights still registering in a strange pattern as Sully drove you home, your address in her GPS. Still, she just woke you up. 

“You okay?” she asks. 

You feel your body relax as you sit up. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

“You were clutching your phone so hard I thought you were gonna break it.”

You sigh. You realize that you have indents on your hand where the volume and camera buttons were. You probably took a few comatose selfies of yourself, so that’s great. “Damn…” You can only shrug and say “I’m sorry, I was just thinking.”

Sully reads between the lines on that, which you’d guess you’d expect, though at this point her skill at reading you feels very much like a  _ just-for-you _ thing. “Is it all just… weighing on you?”

_ Are you going through an anxiety thing? _

You’re good at reading her too.

“Y-yeah,” you admit quietly, and she nods. You steal a glance at her. She doesn’t notice you looking at her somehow. You feel things unfolding in your mind, eventually why you were holding your phone that way. You set it down, overcome with pressure to answer Forrest’s texts. 

“Thinking about someone?” she asks, leaning onto her steering wheel. You realize that she’s just outside your house, the car turned off, and if you were anyone else with anyone else you’d reckon that people would find it improper. Maybe some will anyways. They always seem to watch you. 

“Yeah,” you admit. “I’m nervous.” 

She sighs sympathetically. “Been there before. What you gonna do?”

“About Forrest?”

“Whoever that is.” 

“The one you thought was a girl when I showed you a picture of him?”

She snaps in recognition. “That dude.” Her smile gets a little fonder. It’s generally the first emotion people have regarding him. You certainly did, until your emotions regarding him got tangled. For a few moments, you thought he could fix you. “Okay, yeah. Is it all good?” After you’re quiet for a bit, she corrects herself. “Meant to say that you don’t gotta say if you don’t want. It’s fine.”

You upturn your nose. “You know you want me to spill it.”

Sully grins, guilty. “Yeah, I love a good tea-spilling, but I know you don’t wanna get into it, and I ain’t gonna make you.”

You reluctantly nod. “Thanks. I just gotta… not mess this up. I feel like I’m messing up a lot lately. That’s why I came back, you know. Turned into a total dork. I’m trying to get it straight.” 

Sully  _ hmms _ . “I mean, there’s only so much I know,” she admits. “And I’m not in a hurry for answers or to tell you who you should and shouldn’t be.” She never has been. “I just know that…” She grows hesitant. “Like, I mean, you’ve probably heard this a lot, but just remember that you got something special in you. Something no one else has. Something really  _ Liss  _ about you. And I really, really think you should hold onto that, okay?” She doesn’t say  _ please,  _ but she may as well have. She looks at you in the eyes like she’s not made a suggestion, but a request. 

“Sully…” You blink a few times. “That means a lot to me.” Certainly gives you more faith in your convictions, at least. 

She beams. She’s soft right now. That’s the only way you can see her. “Good luck with this dude, okay?” she concludes, holding her hand out for you to shake. It’s just that you aren’t sure you can end it on a hearty note about Forrest with Sully moving back to the corners of your life. This isn’t about Forrest, and that’s not how you want tonight to end. You wanna do better by Sully. You care about her more than you’ve ever cared about any other friend. 

Time to do what you’re afraid of.

“Can I... confess something big?” Your voice is cautiously minimal. 

Sully looks at you with a curious smile, lowering her hand. “I’ll take it to the grave.”

“Nah, trust me, you’re the person I’m most embarrassed about telling this to.” 

Sully catches on, sitting up and looking at you. “Well, now I’m definitely all ears,” she says, with less tease than she intends. She’s a little thick, but not stupid. No getting out of this now. 

“It’s a little bit around and round,” you admit. “But, like… you could probably tell I was crushing on you before my family decided to move to Themis.”

Sully shrugs but smiles a little at the confirmation. That’s good. “Figured, yeah. It was just kid stuff, I bet.” There’s an unsaid  _ because why else,  _ but it gets left alone. 

“I thought it was,” you respond. It being conversational and no surprise makes it easier. “I had such a good time hanging out with you. You were just… really cool. Even though I was thinking it’d go away soon. You were basically an adult to me. You know how freshmen are.”

“Too well. I was one of those myself once upon a time.”

You snicker. That dork is not cooling down the heat in your chest. “When I moved to Themis, I figured now was the time it’d go away. And… I thought it did. Cause, like, I learned to just see you as a friend. As a stepping stone. You know, that’s why I was like 'I think I like girls too.'” 

She snaps. “See, that’s when I was like, ‘wait, was that a  _ crush  _ on me? Was I _ that  _ girl?’” 

“The egg-beater?” you giggle, and she cracks up. 

"Ain't that the trans word for it?” You hmm, impressed that someone knows queer slang. You could throw jokes back and forth with Olivia but you didn’t imagine anyone else really caring. Sully brings you back to her with “Nah, yeah, I wondered ‘was I _that girl?_’ I guess, but I figured that I probably wasn’t. That’s a high honor.”

“Well, congrats,” you tell her with a blush on your cheeks. “Cause you were my egg beater." You think for a second. "The queer one, I mean.”

She throws her hands into her hair. She looks literally mind-blown. “Jeez, Louise. You’re fuckin’ weird.”

“I know.” It’s a compliment, so you beam.

“Best friends with three babes and I was the one who unlocked the closet door.” 

You snicker. She really knows her shit. “I know me better than anyone,” you respond before you can remember that you totally do not. “You had the full package of, like, things I was into, in a way I totally didn’t expect other girls to have.”

After a second of silence, she says “You can’t just leave it on that, weirdo, you gotta keep going!” 

You nod, smile shaky but laugh clear as a bell. “I dunno what else to say! I just had those feelings, you know. The memories. I could feel those. But with everything that happened after I moved, I figured those would be little kid things. That they were just overdramatic because I was a kid. And I never had an experience that felt just… right… but I figured they were supposed to be good enough. And…” 

You take a deep breath, but don’t let yourself waste time.

“When I met up with you today, I just felt… you know, that same way again. And, like, that scares me. Cause I thought those were, like, a sign of weakness. I thought I wasn’t supposed to have them. And now I realize it was just something I was missing. And… I can’t describe what a relief that is. So, thanks.”

“ _ Fuck me, _ ” Sully enunciates, sitting back. “So what you’re saying is…” She’s rarely struggled to say words like this before. “Is that… that you still have them?”

You nod, trying to swallow your fear. “You just seem to get me. What I want and what I need. And you’re fun as hell.” Hand clenched, you add “I’m not trying to tell you that you have to, like, accept or return those feelings. I just wanted you to know. So I can do something with ‘em.”

She thinks for a little (or too long). “Well, too bad, cause I do.”

You look at her in surprise, graceless confused noises escaping your lips. Her not thinking of you that way seemed like such a gimme that you were legitimately going to consider it a victory if you just told her how you felt and left to unscramble her in your mind. She looks back at you and grins. “Swear to God your whole damn face is gonna fall off.”

You sigh in a way that takes a weight off of you, hand released. And you have the gall to tease Maribelle about being an oblivious lesbian when clearly pan girls aren’t any smarter. “I think it is,” you admit. “Like, I think it actually is.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not that type of girl,” she says with a flippant wave. Her other hand is gripping the door handle, flicking it a few times, not that you really noticed the rhythm. “Took me a while too. When you were gone, I remembered you as Liss, my little dirt buddy, but like, over time, you became more ‘you’, even though you say you still got a ways to go cause we're both in our twenties and all. And I remembered everything cool about you and everything you showed online and how we talked when we could, it just showed that you still were. Like, even as a grownup, you were still the Liss I remembered…”

She sighs. “It doesn’t really make a ton of sense, especially since last I saw you, you’d just entered high school, but for the last little while I saw you just as you were going about your Liss business with a really weird fondness. And I guess that’s why I got so excited. To see if that could fill out now that you were older. Which, I mean, it did. You're, uh...” She scratches her neck and you let her think, terrified in the best way possible. "You're a really rad woman, Liss."  


“Awww, Sully…” Those six words are probably the nicest thing she's ever said to you. You reach across and take her hand. How lovely are the burns in your chest. 

“Wanna see each other a little? Get a grip on things? See how the hell we do?”

You don’t hesitate. “I think I’d like that.”

She smiles. “Thanks. I think I got a lot to learn and all.”

So do you. You’ve never been in anything near a relationship, even if tonight's end result is something that’s still sort of pending one. You’ve never really wanted to before. “We got this.”

She pulls you a little closer. You finally think to unbuckle and allow her to pull you closer and closer to your side. That heat in your chest feels unbearable at this point. You can’t really accept why that is, but you’ve never felt so… inclined this way. Even if all you really want is just what you wanna ask for. 

“Can I try something?”

She looks at you. Her breath hastens. “Um. Sure.”

“I mean, I know you’re not very physical, so just turn me down if you want.”

“You should probably say what you want first,” she points out like she doesn’t know. 

You close your eyes, then you pull a little closer. “Can I kiss you? I feel like it would clear a lot up for me. If you wanna, though.”

She smiles. “I think I can do that.”

You two lean in towards each other hesitantly, eyes open. She adjusts her weight and leans her head towards you. “Sorry, I didn’t practice,” she jokes. “Never really felt the need to.”

“Me either, actually.”

But it works out, and eventually, you two do kiss, a little longer than you intended. You connect your lips, then move your head, then hold her hands so tight that you’re wondering if you’re anxious again, but it sure doesn’t feel like it. You know that Sully isn’t a kisser and you’re mostly one out of compulsivity, especially as you became of age and were made to know it pretty damn quick. She’s a little bit of a fumbler, and your teeth get almost as involved as your lips, and it’s strange to have this be the best kiss you’ve ever had, the type of kiss that you’d remember as  _ the  _ kiss, but that’s the case. 

This is basically your first kiss, after all.

As you pull apart, you admit “that was good.”

“Don’t give me your fuckin’ pity,” she half-jokes. 

You pout. “I meant it, Sully, take the frickin’ compliment.”

She laughs lowly, letting you rest against her, letting you set your hand on her stomach. “Okay, okay. Just keep me in practice, okay?” 

Now you're blushing. What took you so long? "That's the least I can do."

You two sit there as she looks up at your house somberly. Voice low and reluctant, she asks “You gotta go in soon?”

You gasp as you look at it. You forgot you were home. You seemed to forget about a lot of things. “Yeah,” you admit bitterly. “That sucks.”

A couple more minutes before you look again. Neither of you points out how long it is. You almost fall asleep on her lap. Finally, though, you break the peace and you climb to the car door without a word but with some sorrow. 

Sully notices. “Damn.”

“Yeah.”

“Next time we see each other, we’re cuddling,” she promises firmly, pointing at you as playfully as she can and yet not enough at all.

“I like that idea,” you reassure her because even if you didn’t do anything else but cuddle in her car and talk for a few hours, it’d still be nice.

She smiles as she sees you open the door, giving her one last look before you go. “Goodnight, Bite-Size.”

You groan into your laugh even though now you just wanna kiss her again. “See you soon, Samantha.”

She swats at you. “Okay, that’s enough. Git!”

You giggle as you do. You miss her before you shut the door, and now that you’re leaving, you’ve never felt so tired. You don’t know how you’re gonna get through it, but you walk to the door before you lose all inhibition and run away with her.


	6. Chapter 6

_ It’s your last day in Themis. _

_ You could tell that something changed in Chrom ever since his fundraiser went south and one of his allies in the elite was exposed to be the type of person that he couldn’t associate with. For all of his flaws, Chrom has never been the type of person to pretend to stand awful people, which he can get away with while never being called difficult or temperamental as you’ve been.  _

_ Chrom could have returned alone- he often does, as he travels a lot for the sake of his gig as a senator. You’ve been lucky enough to hold down the fort in Themis in the house you and your brother shared, distant from the political scene and all of the machinations it performs on you. _

_ Turns out you’re a little shaken by the fundraiser as well.  _

_ “I just wanna do it right,” you explain to Forrest. “I just… wanna get better. I wanna do more good, I wanna be more understanding… I’m just bad at that, you know?” _

_ Forrest nods with reluctance as he sips on his tea. It’s iced tea, so you’re not sure why he’s sipping on it, but maybe it has something to do with his lipstick. He probably knows better than you. “I understand that,” he says, his confidence shaken. “I think that if an opportunity arises to better yourself, that you should take it. If I were to say anything...” He thinks, and you can see the struggle on his face to do so.  _

_ “Forrest?” Your question has an edge to it. This is no time for caution.  _

_ Forrest shrugs but has too much grace and gravitas to make it seem casual. “Melissa, were I to advise you on one thing, it would be to forgive yourself. You seem to have taken everything that happened straight to the heart when there is instead so much to learn from it.” _

_ You look at him with a grimace. “It’s motivating me to do things  _ right _ ,” you argue. Your voice doesn’t usually have a bite, but you’re on edge lately. “I don’t want to make something like that happen again.” _

_ Forrest looks you in the eye, taking another sip of iced tea. “Is this something you want to do? I don’t think you have ever really enjoyed the political half of your life for as long as I’ve known you. I feel like this is a severe shift.” _

_ “You don’t know that I don’t.” _

_ Forrest sighs. He doesn’t buy it. “Not concretely, I suppose,” he admits. “I suppose I am just worried, is all.”  _

_ “Don’t be,” you warn him. “Even if this isn’t what I want, I need to grow up.” _

_ “Grow up your way or grow up their way?”  _

_ You screw your eyes shut. “Look…” You don’t have a response. You know that you drank your coffee and that there’s no one in the cafe except for you two. “I’m just gonna get some fresh air, okay? It’s hot as hell in here.”  _

_ “It’s raining outside,” he points out obviously.  _

_ “Good.” _

_ You step outside and Forrest doesn’t stop you. You think that’s what he thinks love is.  _

_ The cafe’s courtyard is bigger than the cafe itself, which is designed as a come-and-go that made it easier for people to go away from you when you were talking seriously. There are some chairs throughout the courtyard under giant umbrellas, but the rain has kept people away from it.  _

_ Surrounding you are a few condos colored like the sunset that was never so vibrant in Themis and the edge of a bluff that you can see the rest of the city center from. Beacon Heights has always given you a bit of comfort, a quick escape from the hustle and bustle of even a moderate-sized city that feels bigger than you. You try not to look for the hotel with your eyes, but can’t help it, and your fist clenches in a way that lets you know.  _

_ After that, you can’t keep your thoughts in one place.  _

_ You feel guilty that you’re the sad one over all of this. You’re not the one whose queerphobic father kicked you out of the house and cut you off. You’re not the one sharing a studio with your new girlfriend with barely any money to live off of. Though the two women, your two friends, seem to love each other without fear or shame in a way that you feel so fortunate to see, making you wonder  _ am I supposed to love like that?,  _ you know that they have suffered a lot of pain, and you know that your ignorance, your privilege, your immaturity is to blame. You’ve never lived in a world where you were not the spoiled pixie princess of Ylisse, and you can’t be that way anymore. Who you are doesn’t deserve what you are given, not at all, and it’s something you have to ch- _

_ You hear a set of heels behind you. Even if you two weren’t alone you’d recognize Forrest. Forrest, a name chosen to reflect his regality, his iconicity, the beauty that he learned. Not by definition, but by sound. Forrest is the name of an ethereal being, and that’s the aura that Forrest presents, even with how he runs behind you and grabs you across the waist, whispering over and over that it’s okay like he’s begging you to be okay when you’re not.  _

_ “Don’t you hate me?” You ask that because Forrest  _ should.  _ At the very least, he should keep his distance. You’re a distant girl. You always have been, and while you try to own that, it feels like it’s another way to justify you always leaving people behind.  _

_ “Not at all,” Forrest promises. “I swear it. I don’t think I could, Melissa.” _

_ You sigh. “Even though I’m leaving you?” Even though you don’t know? Even though you promised him that you would figure things out? Even though you don’t know why he cares about you like that? Even though you don’t know why you don’t?  _

_ Forrest sighs. “No goodbye is forever,” he promises. “I know that you and I will speak again. And if this is how you would figure yourself out… well, I offer nothing but my full support. I just…” He holds you a little tighter. “I hate to see you worked up this way over yourself, my dear. You are a remarkable person.” _

_ You just can’t bring yourself to believe it. It’s too much of a shock to your system. Still, you nod.  _

_ Forrest draws closer to your cheek. His ringlets fall on your chest, and his hands rise to your shoulders in an unobtrusive way, because he is never greedy when he touches you and you appreciate that. You feel the wind blow the fabric of his dress against your legs, bare from the knee down. You nod with a smile- how fond he is of consent- and he kisses you on the cheek.  _

_ “It’s okay if you need time to find yourself.” _

_ The words take a burden off of your chest. You have never known how on Earth you would tell Maribelle. Though she would not show it right now, she would be crushed because another person she loves would disappear from her immediate life. Olivia would take it better, but she’d be more openly emotional, and you know that the two women would feed off of each other. Forrest is the one who has the most at stake with you leaving. Even if at many points it feels like you two would be an arranged couple what with the meddling and organizing of two elite twenty-something openly queer children together, he is very caring, and he’s maintained that even as you’ve set to leave him behind. _

_ Forrest is a good man. No other prospective lover that you could imagine would be this good to you. You wish you knew how to repay that. _

_ “Thank you.”  _

\---

You wake up at nine the next morning, phone in your hand. You really meant to respond to Forrest, but it wasn’t fear that kept you from it, but exhaustion. You didn’t even put it on the damn charger, so you get that on and over with. Pretty soon people will be over to dress you up and do your makeup like they do every day that you’re not off. Not in a glamorous way like Forrest, but in a way that makes you feel like the stuffy junior politician that you’re on the track to becoming. 

Oh, Forrest… you feel a pull of regret in your stomach as it gurgles like mad. Why did you tell him maybe?  _ Maybe _ implies the possibility of a yes or no, but the likelihood of a yes. 

It’s probably not that bad. Forrest… isn’t right for you. He is too unobtrusive and too polite to untangle your mind when anxiety sweeps it away. Yet as a friend, that is who you need. Forrest is a very charming person, even if he wasn’t an inarguably gorgeous crossdresser. It’d be too easy for him to accept this. It’d be too easy for him to find someone who loves him too. He’d be settling with a restless woman who does not love him, whether he knows it or not. 

Even if you are the pixie princess of Ylisse. 

You hear a knock on your door and can’t help but groan. Thankfully, the “peace, sis,” is unmistakably Chrom. 

You assess yourself as decent and tell him “Come on in.”

He does, a postcard in hand. “So this was addressed to you,” he says. “And the mail doesn’t run this early, but you know how Frederick is about checking it.”

You nod with a sleepy smile. “Just set it on my desk, I’ll get it when I get to it.”

Chrom nods with a familiar smile. “That sounds reasonable. Just be sure to be up soon, okay?”

You nod, waving him away. He chuckles and takes a look at you. With a chipper, cheeky smile that you haven't seen on him in years, he says "Nice jacket." 

"Wait." You look down, patting your torso as you realize that you're still wearing Sully's jacket. "Oh, goddamnit. Shit." That also means that she still has your dress shirt. Getting that back will probably be no problem since it’s Sully, but you feel weirdly exposed wearing only your training bra underneath.

"You should stuff that under your bed before you wake up," he advises with a lilt. 

"I'll stuff it between the mattresses if I have to," you grumble, awake now. You see your brother standing there with a smile on his face. "You having fun there? Get lost!"

"Congratulations on the new jacket," Chrom says with a hint of pride as he nods knowingly and closes the door, used to your antics. It’s the closest thing you’ve had to a  _ moment  _ since Emmeryn died. 

You take a look at the postcard on your desk as best as you can from across the room and slowly- very slowly- realize that it’s one of the ones that Sully got, of a very familiar beach at sunset. You throw your blankets against the window so hard you damage the screen a little, but elect not to care until you’re made to care. You run to the desk and pick it up. Chrom better not have read it, you swear to God…

To your confusion, it doesn’t come addressed from Samantha Sullivan, though you doubt she would let it go out with her full name anyways. Still, you know it’s her. It’s personal, and it says 

_ Yo Liss _

_ Can’t wait to see you again!  _

_ Your girl Sully. <3 _

(That heart is gonna put you in the hospital.) 

She wrote this out and stuck it in your mailbox before she left, you bet. That’s the smoothest thing anyone’s ever done, and she was probably trying a lot less than others. Then again, a lot for her. You’re not sure that you really deserve all that effort until a second wave hits you. 

_ You were the girl.  _

_ You were the postcard girl.  _

_ You were the ukulele girl!  _

You point at yourself like the universe can read your bewilderment then start jumping and clapping in shameless childlike glee. While your talk last night was a plan, this is a promise. This solves so many years of mystery that weighed down your heart. You think you want this. 

Holy shit, you might actually want to be with her. You might actually have  _ feelings  _ for her. Maybe people who have had feelings for people that way before would know it off the bat, but you never have even approached that, even known you were capable of it, except when you’re around Sully. 

Then you see your phone resting on your nightstand, hooked to your charger. The smile dissipates but does not disappear. You feel more secure in your decision. At least, right now, you do. Better do it now before you lose your nerve. 

You walk towards the phone. You reread the simple message he left:  _ I hope the two of you enjoy yourselves! :)  _

Your remnant of a smile grows sad. Better now than never. 

_ Lmk when you can talk, okay? _

Your finger lingers above send, and then on the button after it sends. As you wait for a responding vibration, the burning in your chest overwhelms the gurgle in your stomach, and the days ahead of you excite you for the first time in so long. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lissa was easily one of the most fascinating characters I have ever written and I am so happy I got to be challenged by writing her. 
> 
> Here's to Asexuality Awareness Week!  
-Maevestrom


End file.
